


Take Off

by bexcj



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Alternate Universe, Crash Landing, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-28 10:43:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexcj/pseuds/bexcj
Summary: Phil is a flight attendant and he watches the same passenger for years.





	Take Off

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this one-shot 4 years ago on my old tumblr, but i decided to revise it and upload it on here! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> \- bex
> 
> TW// this fic describes an aeroplane crash in detail, so if youre afraid of flying please be aware of this!!!!!!! *** there isn’t any gore but there is mentions of an explosion***

**March 8th 2009**  
  
It’s six in the morning when “The Boy Who Could Fly” by Pierce The Veil begins to make the bedroom vibrate. Phil groans loudly, stretching his arm out and shuffling his fingers as he tries to find the source of the noise to put it on snooze. Once he finally finds it he sits up, rubbing at his eyes and scratching his scalp as his vision attempts to come into focus. He really regrets setting his alarm tone as something related to flying, but he thought it would be funny at the time.  
  
Dark blue jeans, a smart white shirt and blue waistcoat. Phone, check. Money, check. Contacts, check. Keys, check. Glasses, check. Flight attendant badge, no check. _shit_. Phil rummages through his pockets and around his room for a few minutes before finding his badge in an old bowl of cereal on the floor under his bed. He brushes off the sticky residue of last Wednesday's cheerios and dries the badge on his jeans before clipping it onto his waistband. He goes to the mirror, fixing his bed-hair and adding a tiny amount of hairspray to try and hide the fact he’s looking like a girl with how long it is, but he doesn’t have time to go to a hairdresser when he’s in different parts of the world every few hours.  
  
He scrambles down the stairs and pulls his shoes on, messily doing up the laces before picking up an orange from the fruit bowl in the hallway and stumbling out of the door, heading towards the train station. It usually takes Phil about an hour and a half to get to the airport and that’s on a good day. He starts at nine, hence he wakes himself up as early as six.  
  
Today is already looking like a bad day. Phil gets to work at 8:53 and that's before he has to run into the nearest corner shop to get a Ribena and then he has to sprint into a staff toilet to re-fix his messy hair. The queue for the Ribena is too long when he gets there, and Phil ends up cutting the queue despite the abusive comments and protests he receives, and he buys his Ribena before running to the toilet, which is of course occupied.  
  
“Hurry up! Harry, is that you in there? Some of us start work in…” Phil pulls his phone out of his pocket and clicks the button on the top. 8:59. “One minute! Harry, open the door!”

The door remains closed and Phil curses under his breath as he sprints to his gate. Gate 38 is around a three minute walk from where Phil is, which means it’s probably around a one and a half minute sprint at the speed he's able to go. He reaches his gate by 9:01.

“Philip, you’re late. Again.” A colleague says, raising her eyebrow in a playful manner.

“Shut up Connie,” Phil pants in reply, rubbing his eyes again as they go into focus, except one of them doesn’t. _fuck fuck fuck,_ he must’ve forgotten to put one of his contacts in this morning. How could he have not noticed? He clenches his fist against the wall because this means he has to wear his glasses, and he looks awful with his glasses on but now he has no choice. He sighs, pulling a pair out from one of his pockets and sliding them on.

“The gate is about to open, people, chop chop!” One of the attendants announces, and Phil is soon being rushed outside and up the aeroplane stairs into the aircraft. He sighs as he drags his feet along the carpet, over to his corner, making sure all the food and drinks are in place and every seat is clear. When he’s sure of everything, he sits down in his seat at the back, sighing again loudly and rubbing his nose. He considers dozing off for a couple of minutes until he hears suitcases and mindless chatter from outside, and so he gets up, straightens himself out and tries his best to fix his hair even though he knows he looks awful. He watches as passengers begin to climb the stairs, and this is it.

An endless number of people, an endless number of tickets Phil has to rip and an endless number of “Enjoy your flight”s he has to say whilst faking a smile. Sometimes when Phil is working, he’ll look for one passenger who seems interesting and he’ll focus on them, and sometimes he’ll rotate and he’ll just people watch for a while because he’s nosy, but everyone on this flight seems incredibly boring and agitated which means this could be a hard one.

Once it seems as though all the passengers are on, Phil turns around to lift the stairs, but stops when he hears a voice.

“Wait!” a late passenger calls out, and Phil rolls his eyes before lifting his finger from the button, allowing them to get on.

“Sorry for being late,” Phil looks up and freezes for a moment because the boy standing in front of him is definitely interesting to say the least. Chocolate eyes and chocolate hair in a fringe over one side of his face. Tall, slightly shorter than Phil but tall, slim and generally very pretty, apart from the hideous yellow jacket he’s wearing.

“Hello?” Phil shakes himself out of his thoughts and blinks his eyes before looking back at the boy.

“Oh - oh yes sorry, no it’s fine, uh, ticket please?” The boy then hands him _two_ tickets and Phil raises an eyebrow. Suddenly, a girl pops up behind the boy’s back and the pair of them begin giggling and whispering to each other. She then stands up on her tiptoes and he turns around, and they start kissing, making uncomfortably loud, wet sounds in front of Phil’s face.

Phil groans, coughing loudly to catch the teenagers’ attention. When they turn to look at him he rips their tickets and hands them over, gesturing for the pair to sit down whilst rolling his eyes. He doesn't bother to be subtle.

“Cabin crew, prepare for take off.” The quick voice of the pilot comes through the speakers of the aircraft as Phil buckles his seatbelt, chewing on a Haribo from the loose packet he stole from one of the carts as the engine begins roaring loudly. he can see the two teenagers from here, still laughing and kissing and play-fighting. Phil wants to vomit.

Once the plane is airbound and the first alarm sounds, it’s Phil’s cue and he gets up, pulling out the food and drinks cart before walking down the isles, serving people and occasionally chatting and faking smiles as he’s handed coins and notes.It’s not long before he meets annoying attractive teenager and his girlfriend. They turn, and as soon as they see Phil they begin giggling again.

“Do you want anything?” Phil snaps, and they soon stop laughing. The boy blinks and thinks to himself for a moment.

“Yeah, we’ll have some Pringles, and a bottle of Smirnoff.” Phil rolls his eyes again.

“Do you have ID?”

“I’m nineteen?” Phil huffs out a laugh. Sixteen or seventeen maybe, but definitely not nineteen.

“Nice try. ID?” The kids look embarrassed and confused for a second, and then the boy gets up, bringing his body incredibly close to Phil’s as he goes to whisper in his ear.

“Look mate, if i give you an extra twenty quid will you give us some?” He asks. The hairs on Phil’s neck stand up, something within him beginning to stir. He almost has a slight temptation to say yes, but he doesn’t.

“Not without your ID, _mate_.” The boy hesitates for a second before pulling out a drivers license with a twenty pound note strapped to the back and hands it to Phil. He scans it carefully.

Daniel Howell | d.o.b: 11/06/1991

“Come back in three months and i’ll serve you, Daniel Howell.” Phil huffs out another laugh and shakes his head before walking on, and in the corner of his eyes he sees the boy flipping him off.

The rest of the flight is incredibly rough, people demanding service and getting up when the seatbelt sign is switched on, babies crying and parent’s shouting and families fighting. It’s hard as expected but the flight is only to Paris so it isn’t too long, until Phil remembers he has to deal with a flight back as well. _great._

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing.” Phil can’t get his seatbelt on fast enough and when the plane finally lands, he sighs in relief. The passengers begin to leave the aircraft and Phil fakes smiles as he greets them. The annoying teenagers are last to get off, and Phil's gives them a sarcastic grin.

“Enjoy your holiday, Daniel Howell!”

“Arsehole.”

And Phil just laughs.

* * *

 

**October 19th 2009**

Heathrow to Scotland is a perfect flight for Phil because it’s incredibly short there and back, meaning he can spend the rest of the day doing something boring like counting coins, but at least he’s on the ground. A lot of people ask him why he chose to work as a flight attendant since he seems to hate flying, and he always just answers with, “I like to travel”, which is a shit answer, and a lie, but it works.

The plane lands in Scotland in about an hour and Phil happily says goodbye to people, waving at small Scottish children and laughing at how the flight was full of people with ginger hair like he used to have. He would have fitted in perfectly when he was six.

Phil expects a majority of Scottish people to be on the flight back too, but as passengers begin to board, it seems to be mostly English, and English people correlate with boredom and aggression most of the time. It’s not a big flight, so it doesn’t take long for everyone to board and Phil can begin to bring the stairs up.

“Wait, wait!” Phil hears a voice call up from the ground as a sudden sense of familiarity hits him. He brings the stairs back down and the late passenger climbs up. When he gets to the top and hands Phil his ticket, Phil studies him from head to toe.

Chocolate eyes and chocolate hair in a fringe over one side of his face. tall, slightly shorter than Phil but tall, and a plain white t-shirt on. Phil has no idea why he knows this person, but he's sure that he does. He looks down at the ticket to see the name and his eyebrows furrow.

_Daniel Howell._

Thousands, no - hundreds of thousands of passengers greet Phil every single day and have done for years. He's initiated thousands of conversations. So why on earth would he remember exactly who this passenger is and every single detail about their meeting?

Phil can't stop himself.

“No girlfriend today then?” he says as he rips the ticket.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s been a while. you’re probably eighteen now, am i right?”

“Excuse me?” the boy says slower, his brow furrowed.

“Please tell me you got rid of that awful yellow jacket -”

“Are you an A* stalker or should i know who you are? Fuck off,” the boy growls, snatching his ticket away and slumping down in one of the chairs near the back. Phil bites his lip then. _You idiot. That must've sounded so creepy._

He sits down, buckling himself up and preparing for take off. The plane becomes airbound and because it’s a short flight, Phil has to go quickly with the food and drink. He walks down the isle, serving people and receiving coins until he reaches Daniel Howell, who has his earphones in and his head turned away.

Phil waits for a second, hesitating before tapping the boy on the shoulder, watching as he flinches, gives Phil a dirty look and takes his earphones out.

“Can i help you?” he snaps.

“I was just about to ask you that.”

“Fuck. Off.”

Phil pauses. “Um - I'm sorry about earlier, it's just that I remember you. Don’t you remember me? I’m the arsehole who wouldn’t serve you and your girlfriend on the Paris flight.”

The boy freezes for a second then, a mixture of sadness and anger and happiness spreading across his face all at once before he replies. “Oh yeah. I remember. Why do you remember that? Surely you would’ve seen hundreds of thousands of people since that flight?”

“I remember interesting people,” Phil shrugs, giving a small smile.

“And an angsty underage teenager looking to get drunk is interesting, is it? Don’t you get a lot of them?”

“Yeah, but they’re easier to remember when they’re wearing bright yellow jackets.” Phil can't help but laugh, and the boy huffs as he shakes his head, putting his earphones back in and turning his head away.

Phil is incredibly thankful the flight is short because before he knows it, the pilot is announcing landing and he's buckling his seatbelt again, watching out the window as the aircraft hits the ground.

The passengers begin to get off, and Daniel Howell is one of the first. Phil gives him a small smile and to his surprise, he gets one back.

“Goodbye, Daniel Howell. I will see you in the distant future, maybe.”

“Bye…” the boy hesitates for a moment and Phil unclips his name badge, holding it out for him to see.

“Goodbye, Philip Lester. I probably won’t remember you, but i’m sure you won’t let me forget.”

* * *

 

**December 3rd 2010**

“24 soon. In 58 days to be precise!”

“Shut up, Connie.” Phil mutters as he takes the final bite of his KitKat, throwing the wrapper into the bin and walking with the other members of the cabin crew to the aircraft. This flight goes from Heathrow to Lisbon, Portugal, so it’s a fairly long one and Phil will have to endure constant complaining and panicky British parents, talking about how they’ve lost their luggage or forgot their woolly jumpers.

“Hi Phil,” One of the newer female flight attendants slithers around by Phil’s corner, batting her eyes and poking her tongue out of one side of her mouth.

Phil shuffles uncomfortably. “Hello.”

“I really don’t want this flight today. It’s going to be so, so utterly boring. Don’t you think?” She bats her eyes again and nudges Phil’s shoulder playfully. He furrows a brow.

“Um, most flights are- are boring so yes, it will.” The end of his reply turns up as if he’s asking a question and she chuckles loudly, her high pitched squeak piercing Phil’s ear and making him feel dizzy. He quickly ushers the girl away and sets up the food cart, quickly pulling out a tiny Ribena and taking a couple of large gulps before hiding it in one of the compartments.

The passengers start to get on and Phil can already tell this flight is actually going to be quite a good one. There doesn’t seem to be any miserable people down his end, some passengers even muttering thank yous and hellos as their tickets are checked. Phil smiles, and for once it isn’t fake.

“Have a nice flight!” He says to a little girl who skips past with her mother, humming along to the tune of an Aladdin song. Phil turns around and studies her for a moment. A pink dress and little white shoes with a single velcro strip across the middle. Two brunette pigtails sprouting from both sides of her head, and one of her two front teeth missing. Phil turns back around to the next passenger and freezes.

Chocolate eyes and chocolate hair in a fringe down one side of his face. He looks different. Slimmer, maybe less tanned. Definitely different, but Phil still recognises him. He takes the boy’s ticket and checks the name just to make sure.

 _Daniel Howell._ Jackpot.

“Hello again, Daniel Howell.”

“Hello?” The boy raises an eyebrow, obviously confused.

Phil bites his lip. “Um, I don't know if you remember me. Philip Lester, flight attendant, arsehole.” He stares down at his feet, this interaction suddenly becoming incredibly awkward. Suddenly, Phil feels a hand on his shoulder and breath against his ear.

“I was joking. Of course i remember you, Philip.”

Daniel Howell walks to his seat and Phil just blinks in disbelief.

-

"Cabin crew, prepare for take off.” Phil takes another sip of his Ribena before quickly putting it back in it’s compartment when the engines start to roar, the plane moving speedily along the runway. He looks around, his eye catching the little girl’s mother on the isle seat, and Phil can even make out two little white shoes wiggling up and down in anticipation next to her.

He looks around the other side, and his eyes find Daniel Howell. he’s in the isle seat and he’s fixing his hair whilst biting his nails. Phil deduces that Daniel Howell is slightly afraid of flying, which is somewhat sweet. Daniel Howell starts looking around too, and his eyes soon lock with Phil’s. They’re not breaking contact when the plane lifts off the ground, the whole aircraft tilted upwards as it reaches the sky.

Daniel Howell is still looking at Phil and he’s even smiling, and Phil’s smiling back. This may really be a good flight.

The plane becomes airbound and Phil unbuckles his belt, taking one more sip of his Ribena before sliding it back in and pushing the cart along down the isle. He reaches Daniel Howell, who has his earphones in again. Phil taps him on the shoulder and the boy instantly smiles.

“Hello, Philip Lester,” he says.

“Hello, Daniel Howell. Would you like anything to eat or drink from our food cart today?” Daniel reaches into his pocket and pulls out a couple of notes and a few coins. “I’ll have some Ribena. Only a small one, though."

Phil thinks for a moment, and he knows he shouldn't, but he places the Ribena on Daniel Howell's tray, whispering, "It's on the house."

Daniel Howell raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Oh. Well thank you, Philip Lester. And by the way,” he whispers back, “You can call me Dan.”

Phil smiles and leans in closer. “You’re welcome, Dan. and by the way, you can call me Phil.” he stands back up straight and begins to walk further down the isle, serving people until he gets back to his corner. He puts the cart back in place before pulling off a piece of paper from the notepad on top, scribbling something down onto it. He folds it up a few times, placing it into his pocket and walking over to where Dan is sitting.

“Hi again,” Dan flinches, pulling out his earphone and staring up at Phil, his eyebrow raised.

“Hi?”

“Can I sit?” Phil asks, gesturing to the middle seat next to Dan which is free. The plane is surprisingly empty, most probably because it’s winter and not a lot of people go abroad before Christmas unless they're going away _for_ Christmas. Dan shuffles in his seat, and Phil pulls a packet of skittles (stolen) from his pocket and rips the top open, placing them on Dan’s tray before picking a couple up and throwing them into his mouth.

“So,” Phil begins. “why are you off to Portugal then?” Dan shrugs.

“Dunno. Just fancied a holiday?”

“A holiday. to Portugal. This close to Christmas?” Phil stares at him, unconvinced, and Dan huffs.

"You’ll be surprised to know that it actually ranges from about 10 - 20 degrees in Portugal at this time, so shut up.”

“Why on your own?” Dan looks down at his lap and bites his lip.

“I don’t know,” He whispers, “I just wanted to get away from my useless fucking family, you know?”

“Not really, I have an alright family.”

“That’s great,” Dan mutters sarcastically. “I’m going to the toilet.” He announces before storming off to the front of the plane.

 _Idiot,_ Phil whispers to himself before pulling out the piece of paper and placing it onto Dan's tray before running back to his little corner, watching and waiting for his return. Dan returns shortly after and Phil can see him looking confused when there’s no Phil in the middle seat and just a piece of paper and a packet of skittles remaining.

Phil watches as he picks up the paper and sits back down, unfolding it and reading what’s inside. He sees him huff out a laugh and shake his head before pulling what looks like a mobile phone out of his pocket, turning it on and tapping at the keys. 

Dan jumps when Phil appears next to him again. "Don't you know the rules about mobile phones on planes?"

"Maybe they should make a rule about flight attendants giving you their number, then." 

Phil smiles, climbing back over into the middle seat and taking another Skittle. "I'm sorry about the family comment. I was -"  
  
"It's fine, Phil." Dan cuts him off. "I'd rather not think about them at all, to be honest."   
  
Phil just nods. 

The pair sit and chat for a while, mostly about small things such as music and anime. They realise they actually have a whole lot in common, and Dan has successfully stopped thinking about his family because he's smiling. 

The seatbelt sign switches on and Phil gets up to go back to his corner, but he freezes when Dan begins biting his nails again and sits back down.

“You're a nervous flyer, aren’t you?”

Dan huffs out a laugh. “Of course not. Maybe slightly."  
  
Phil laughs quietly, reaching for his belt and buckling himself in. Dan looks at him in confusion.

“Don’t you have, like, a designated seat?”

Phil shakes his head. “Not if there’s a frightened passenger on board,” He smiles, and receives a playful swat to the face.

“You make me sound like a nervous wreck.”

“Biting your nails, you’re definitely getting there.”

“Cabin crew, prepare for landing.” the pair sit in silence for a moment, Dan's nerves increasing as he looks down into his lap, his nail biting worsening. 

Phil sighs, reaching out and grabbing Dan's hand. Dan freezes, his arm tensing at the sudden contact. "Sorry," Phil mutters. "But please stop biting them. Just relax." 

Dan relaxes his arm muscles slightly, his eyes still on Phil, who just smiles, nodding in reassurance as the plane hits the ground, screeching and roaring when the brakes start working. Dan’s eyes are screwed shut and Phil just sits there grinning. Their fingers find each other and intertwine as they breathe heavily with adrenaline, and the plane soon comes to a peaceful stop in Lisbon.

The seatbelt sign switches off and Dan pulls his hand away, standing up and opening the overhead holder to retrieve his hand luggage. Phil slips past him and to the back of the plane, bringing the stairs down and happily saying goodbye to people, wishing them happy holidays. The little girl gets off with her mother, but before she does, she runs up to Phil and wraps her arms around him. he picks her up and swings her around slightly before putting her back down and waving goodbye. 

Dan gets off just after. He stands in front of Phil with a small but nervous smile as he looks outside. Phil sighs.

“You sure you want to go out there? The flight home isn’t busy so I can sneak you on if you want,” Phil offers.

Dan just laughs and shakes his head. “I'm not looking to get you fired, Phil. I need this holiday. I need to get away so badly. Thanks, though. I might- I might text you. Maybe. Bye, Phil.”

Phil watches as he leaves down the stairs, trying his best not to acknowledge the small pang in his chest at not knowing if or when he'll see Daniel Howell again.

* * *

**june 11th 2011**

To: daniel howell 

_happy birthday dan!!! i would’ve gotten you a present but i don’t know when i'm going to see you. i'll make up for it one day. what presents did you get? x_

Phil smiles to himself as he takes another sip of his Ribena, sliding down the wall and sitting at the gate. Connie comes over and sits next to him, trying to peek at his conversations.

“Who you texting?”

“Hey, none of your business! My friend, if you must know.”

Phil tries moves his phone away but Connie jumps on him, reaching for the device playfully. The pair begin laughing loudly until one of the other flight attendants lets them know that it’s time to get on the plane.

"You'll tell me all about him, won't you? You're my best friend here, you know. You can confide in me." Connie says, smiling sweetly at him.

"Fine. After this flight, I'll tell you everything." He gives in. Connie is nosey and annoying at the best of times, but she is the only friend he has here.

As Phil’s walking, his phone buzzes.

From: daniel howell

_thanks phil. i just got loads of games and chocolate, which im going to eat all at once. and yes u better make it up to me. wuu2?_

Phil smiles sweetly, quickly typing out that he's about to fly and he'll talk later.

Three agonizing days after the Lisbon flight, Phil had finally received a text from Dan. He'd told Phil how happy he was that he'd gone on holiday by himself, and that he felt more prepared to see his family again now. 

Phil saved down Dan's number within seconds, and now that he had it, he wouldn't let their conversations end. They spoke constantly, every minute of the day from the moment they woke up to the moment they fell asleep. They called each other too, sometimes on mobile and sometimes on Skype, where they'd video chat for hours. 

The pang in Phil's chest grew stronger the more he spoke to Dan. He began to notice how he loved the sound of Dan's voice, loved seeing Dan's face on Skype. He began to notice how he thought about Dan during work, wondering whether or not Dan would've texted him back. He ached to speak to Dan whilst he was flying, even on flights that lasted an hour. 

And every single flight, he wished he'd see chocolate eyes and chocolate hair walk up the stairs. 

-

It’s 8pm when Phil gets home and he’s way too tired to eat anything, so he just heads straight to bed. He puts on some pyjamas and fresh socks and lies down, pulling out his phone. ***(3) new messages.***

From: daniel howell

_eaten half my birthday chocolate already. feeling pleasantly ill_

From daniel howell  
  
_cant. eat. anymore. youll have to eat the rest for me_

From: daniel howell

_miss you_

Phil's chest flutters as he reads the final message, sent two hours ago at 6pm, so he decides to call Dan instead of text him back. He taps in the numbers (he shamelessly knows Dan's number off by heart) and presses the green button, waiting and waiting.Quite a few rings pass, and Phil thinks Dan isn’t going to pick up, but then he does.

“Phil?”

“Hey! When are you sending my chocolate over?"

“Phil, I can’t talk right now.”

Phil furrows a brow. “Why not? Where are you?”

“I’m at home, I just- I really can’t talk.”

Phil sits up worriedly. Dan sounds as though he's crying, and he's whispering which means he mustn't want someone to hear him. Anxiety courses through Phil's body during the moments of silence on the line. 

“Dan, what's going on?”

Dan's voice is sharp. “I have to go.”

“Dan -"

The line cuts off and Phil falls backwards, hitting his pillow. He holds his phone to his chest, tapping impatiently against the surface. He’s worried about Dan, but at the same time he’s not, because Dan will call him back if there’s a problem like he always does, like he’s done for the past half a year. Everything is fine. It is.

* * *

**October 8th 2012**

“Come on, Phil, you’re late. Again.”

“I don't care, Connie.”

Phil is bitter. He’s been bitter for a while, probably ever since Dan’s 20th birthday, when Phil thought everything would be fine, but it obviously wasn’t, because Dan stopped replying to Phil’s texts, calls, everything. All contact was cut off with no explanation and it’s _shit._

He drags his feet up the aeroplane stairs and shuffles to his corner, not even bothering to check the cart when he gets ready to greet people. That’s how things usually are with Phil now, not rushed as such like it was, but just careless, because that’s pretty much what Phil is. He doesn’t people watch anymore, He doesn’t even bother fake smiling because he can't bring himself to do so. 

As usual, passengers start filing into the aircraft and Phil does the usual, rips their ticket and gestures to the direction of their seat. When the next passenger approaches him he has to double take, because he doesn’t know if it is, but he thinks it could be.

Chocolate eyes and slightly darker chocolate hair, swept up but still slightly in a fringe across one side of his face. Tall, taller than Phil, and just completely different. Phil furrows his brows for a second before looking down at the ticket, and of course, he wasn’t wrong.

_Daniel Howell._

Dan raises an eyebrow, giving the most subtle of smiles as if to say hello, but all Phil replies with is a, “Have a nice flight,” through gritted teeth. Behind Dan is a man, a woman and a teenage boy. They all share Dan's features, so one could only assume it’s his family. _great._

Once the plane is airbound, Phil watches Dan get up and walk to the back, but he’s not walking in his direction. Dan walks to the toilet, opening the door and stepping inside. Phil's body moves before his brain can stop it, and he's yanking the door open, stepping inside and locking them both in.

"What the fuck are you -" Dan tries, but Phil cuts him off because _he's_ the one with a million questions.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?" Dan's eyes are fixed on him.

“I’m going to have to complain about this airline since the cabin crew can’t get the hint and leave me the fuck alone.”

“You even sound different.” Phil mutters. "Why have you changed so much?”

“People grow up, Phil. It’s what happens." He looks Phil up and down. "Well, maybe not in your case, but-”

Phil does something he didn't even know he was capable of. He shoves Dan backwards, knocking him against the wall, and he holds him there. He doesn't think he'll be able to for long since Dan is larger than him now, but he uses all his force to keep him there.

Dan gasps, stunned. "Get off -" 

"I'm not letting us out until you tell me what happened. What happened? Just tell me." Phil can feel the tears pricking at his eyes, but he can't wipe them away because he's still holding Dan by the shoulders. They roll down his cheeks, straight in the centre of Dan' viewpoint.

Dan sighs then, softening slightly. "Just save the water works, yeah? Let go of me." 

Phil shakes his head, more tears falling. "Please just tell me why you stopped talking to me. I'll leave you alone, just tell me what happened!" 

"Life happened, Phil! Everything happened. I went to uni, I dropped out of uni. Things happened with my family, my friends... _shit_ happened. I wasn't in the mood to keep talking, so I stopped." 

Phil flinches at the words. It hurts more than he ever imagined it would. "That's it? You just couldn't be bothered?" 

Dan shrugs. Phil gives up then. Similarly to Dan, he suddenly can't be bothered. He removes his hands from Dan's shoulders and just stands there, letting the tears fall. Dan doesn't run out of the toilet like Phil expects. 

"Not everything is so simple, Phil. You have to understand that." Dan says softly, which only tortures Phil even more. 

"I really meant so little to you." Phil's voice is a whisper. He doesn't have the energy to muster anything louder.

"That's not true." Dan replies immediately. "You have absolutely no idea how much I -" He stops himself, and Phil longs to hear what he has to say, but that's where he stops. 

Phil opens the door after a few moments of silence and wiping his face dry. He composes himself, slipping out of the tiny room and into the back so it doesn't look suspicious. He doesn't see Dan walk back to his seat, and he doesn't acknowledge the boy for the rest of the flight. 

Phil says goodbye to the Howell family with a huge, fake smile. He doesn't look twice at Dan, who's staring at him with sad eyes as he lets out a small sigh. He glances to the bottom of the stairs only once, his eyes locking straight with Dan's as the younger man begins to walk away.

* * *

**26th February 2013**

New York to Heathrow. It was long, too long, but Phil's been managing, and now there’s forty-five minutes left before he can go home and go to sleep.

He's taking a small break, sitting in his chair at the back of the plane and taking a few sip of Ribena when he hears a small bang from outside the back door of the plane, and the aircraft jolts a little to the left. Phil furrows a brow, peeking out of the back window to try and locate the source of the noise. He assumes a few passengers may have heard it and may start panicking, so he'll need an explanation to calm them.

As he peers out of the back window, his eyes find a trail of black, and they widen. On cue, he begins to hear commotion amongst the aircraft. He turns, his gaze meeting Connie's as she rushes to the back of the plane. 

"Phil," She says, her voice shaky. "We've got a problem. I think the left engine's blown."

Phil swallows, exhaling slowly to stop himself freaking out. "What do we do?" 

"There's nothing we can do." She tells him. "The pilots have been informed. Hopefully it should be okay, we're so close to Heathrow anyway. We'll just have to hope this weather doesn't cause too many problems."

Phil looks out of the window again. They're still thirty thousand feet up, above the clouds, but beneath them is a sea of grey. A storm, typical England. 

"Phil." Connie calls, snapping him out of it. "It'll be okay, don't worry." 

He nods to her as she returns to the front of the plane. She sounds so calm and collected, like a truly professional flight attendant should be. Phil, on the other hand, is trying not to panic. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen," The pilot's voice fills the aircraft. "We're currently experiencing some problems with our engines. One is completely gone and the other is on the way. We will be making a glide landing at Heathrow. Please keep your seatbelts fastened at all times and be prepared to brace." 

Passengers begin to cry and scream even though nothing has happened yet. The plane still feels completely smooth despite having half and engine to run on. Phil sits down and buckles up, tapping nervously on his knee. He lifts his hand to bite his nails, stopping and huffing out a laugh. _Who are you? Dan?_

_Dan._

Anxiety begins to fill Phil's stomach and lungs as he thinks of Dan. What if the landing doesn't go as smooth as planned and he dies? What if he never gets to tell Dan how he feels? The thought makes Phil want to throw up. He places a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm himself down when the plane suddenly drops.

It's only a couple thousand feet, but it's enough to elicit screams and shouts from the passengers. Phil bites his lip, stifling tears which are starting to come through. He shoves a shaky hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone and pressing the on button. 

He should want to call his mum. He should want to hear his mum's voice right now, telling him everything is okay. But his mum knows he loves her, and she loves him, and she's not on his mind right now.

He presses the green button on the phone, listening through the rings as the plane descends through the clouds. The rumble of the thunder causes even more distress, raindrops scattering the windows. The phone rings countless times, and he doesn't think Dan will answer.

"Please." Phil whispers, "Please answer just this once." 

"Can you be quick? I'm busy." 

Phil sighs in relief. He actually answered. "Dan," He breathes, tears falling down his cheeks. "Dan, I need to talk to you." 

Dan remains silent for a moment before replying. "What - What's that sound? It's really loud in the background." 

Phil sniffs. "Probably the plane." 

"The what?" Dan's voice is loud now, his concern apparent. "Phil, are you on a plane? Why are you ringing? What's going on?" 

"Dan," Phil says again. "I need to tell you - I love you." 

He can hear Dan pacing back and forth on the other end of the line. He can hear Dan's shaky breaths, quiet 'oh my god's leaving his lips. He shouldn't be, but Phil's so glad that Dan is worried. 

"Phil, are - are you gonna be alright? You're not gonna...crash, are you?" 

"I don't know." He says. "I'm scared." 

"You'll be okay." Dan's voice is so soft, so calming. "You're going to be fine. I'll call you when you've landed, yeah?" 

"I really fell for you, Dan. You brightened my life. I love you." 

Dan sighs. "I - be safe, Phil." 

Phil knows that's as much as he'll get, and he takes it. He hangs up as the ground comes into view, only partially due to the rain. The plane is shaking, swaying side to side as it nears the runway. 

"Cabin crew, prepare to brace." 

Phil has trained for this. He knows the landing will be hard if a brace is needed. He tucks his head against his knees and places his arms over the top as he hears Connie shout the word. The plane jolts, hitting the ground at the worst possible angle. 

The next few minutes feel like a blur, but Phil can see the front half of the aircraft completely separate from the back, splitting in two. His head is only slightly lifted off his knees because the two halves are still skidding across the runway, but he catches a glimpse of the horror as the front half of the aircraft explodes. 

Panic rises through him for the next few seconds as he's convinced his half will go straight after, but somehow it doesn't. The back half comes to a complete stop, and there doesn't seem to be any smoke or fire. 

It's eerily quiet for a few minutes after the crash. No one moves, but Phil can hear breathing and coughing and groaning from different directions. His head is pounding from the impact of the landing, but his body fills with adrenaline and he knows he needs to get out of the plane just in case it does explode like the front half.

He unbuckles his seatbelt, holding onto anything he can to keep himself up. The plane is leaning to the side, so Phil can get out when he reaches what was previously the middle of the plane, now his only way outside. 

He moves through the isle, glancing over the passengers to check they are okay. People begin moving with him, so he makes his way out. He feels grass against his shoes and begins to run, trying to get as far away from the plane as possible. It could still blow up any second, he thinks. 

The adrenaline takes him far from the plane, to a field just outside of the runway area. He runs for as long as he can until he collapses, emotional and physical exhaustion falling over him as everything turns to black. 

-

He awakens in a Hospital bed, surrounded by his mum and his dad and his big brother. His injuries are minor, and he's told he's very lucky to have been right at the back of the plane, because he'd be much worse off if he were sitting anywhere else.

They tell him that all of the passengers and the crew in the front half of the plane didn't make it, and that his friend Connie was amongst them. He's told that both engines were down by the time the plane landed, but the harsh weather conditions contributed to the cause of the crash. 

He suffers flashbacks almost instantly and they tell him it's expected from the trauma he's been through. They tell him he can go home in a day or so and he does, being cared for by his mum in his flat until he feels well enough to look after himself.

A week after the crash, he feels nearly okay. He gets up and makes himself a coffee, sits himself on the sofa and watches some Netflix. At around ten o'clock in the morning, he goes to make himself some cereal when the doorbell rings. 

He walks to the door slowly, still feeling a little fragile, and opens. 

Chocolate eyes and chocolate hair in a fringe over one side of his face, but a lot shorter. Tall, way taller than Phil now probably, with black jeans and a leather jacket on. He's so much different again, but it's him, and he's at Phil's door with tears rolling down his face. 

"Dan?" Phil's voice is quiet and confused. "Why -"

"I thought you were dead." Dan screws his eyes shut, breathing to stifle his crying. "I saw the news - I saw the death count and I couldn't get hold of you for so long. I tried everything. I called hospitals, I only found you yesterday, that you'd been discharged." 

Phil sniffs. "Dan -" 

"I thought you'd been dead this whole time." Dan whispers, letting his sobs come through. Phil doesn't care how injured he is and he pulls Dan into him, wrapping his arms around the man's neck, cradling him. 

"I'm alive, Dan. I'm here." Phil whispers, rocking him back and forth. 

Dan cries into him for a good few minutes before speaking again. He looks up at Phil, his eyes red and swelling as he wipes the tears away. "I ruined everything." 

Phil shakes his head, smiling. "Dan, it's okay." 

"No, it isn't okay. I - I pushed you away because I was scared, but I could've lost you and it would've been too late." 

Scratching his head, Phil raises an eyebrow. He had no idea Dan would be afraid of anything to do with Phil and their friendship. "What were you scared of?" 

Dan stares at the ground, hesitant to reply. He looks terrified, Phil notices, and he can't make eye contact anymore. "Dan," Phil pushes. "Scared of what?" 

"Of how I was feeling." Dan admits. His voice is so quiet that Phil can barely hear it, but he won't push the younger man to talk any louder. As long as he hears something, Phil will be satisfied. Dan continues, "I thought about you...all the time. I hated how far away you were from me, but I needed to talk to you all the time to be happy."

This is almost too much for Phil to hear. The whole time he'd been convinced that his feelings for Dan had been one-sided and that he was stupid for feeling that way, but could Dan have really felt the same the entire time? 

"On my birthday," Dan says, "I packed a bag. I was going to come and see you. My parents found out and - and I told them how I felt. They didn't take it well." 

Phil's eyes widen as he listens to the story. He remembers Dan's shaky voice through the phone that night, which must've been just after talking to his parents. Phil feels almost guilty now, he didn't think about Dan's situation and the implications of their friendship. "I'm sorry." 

"It's fine. It doesn't matter now, anyway, because I couldn't care less what they think. I nearly lost you and there's no way in hell that I'll let that happen again."

Phil's jaw almost falls open, taken aback by Dan's words. There were nights he'd dreamt of hearing something like this, but he thought it would be impossible. He stares at Dan softly, the atmosphere almost overwhelming. 

Dan must be feeling it too, because he steps forward and presses his palm to Phil's cheek, his gaze falling over the features of the older man's face. "Do you know how many times I imagined us meeting somewhere other than a fucking plane?" 

Phil laughs, nodding. "Yeah, me too. I always wanted to." 

Dan smiles sweetly, stroking Phil's cheek with his fingers. "Better late than never, yeah?" 

Butterflies send Phil's stomach into overdrive, the adrenaline in his body urging him to lean forward. He does, and in perfect sync so does Dan, their lips finding each other halfway. 

It feels a thousand times better than Phil imagined it ever could, and in that moment it all feels as though everything has fallen into place how the earth intended. Meeting Dan all those years ago was no coincidence, remembering him was no coincidence and falling in love with him was no coincidence. They were destined to find each other and they finally have, after all this time.

 

 


End file.
